Just Small Acts

I'm beginning to accept that life is made up of lots of small acts. Each one important and each one a chance to stop and breathe.
So, in this blog, I am going to write a short poem for each entry. I know! Poems! Who writes poems? I'm going to use the poems to help me remember things my daughter does or says, or just to capture a moment.

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

After posting yesterday, I spoke to my sister (she has two little girls, a bit older than mine). We compared notes.It was nice to hear that all children go though this. I'm not crazy, she's not bad - it's just a phase.

When she (Little One, not my sister) was tiny, I used to wish for a Baby Fairy to show up at those times in the middle of the night when you weren't sure if you'd done it all and done it right. She would tap you on the head with her wand and say "All is well, my dear. Now offfff to bed with you!" (you'll have to imagine the trilling voice) and you'd go and sleep and so would baby and it would be fine.

It would be nice to have a Toddler Fairy, too. And maybe I do, in a way, in my husband (who is off on a business trip and so was spare last night's tantrumming), my sister, my friends, my mother, my MIL. All experienced, supportive and likely to be sane when I call. It is so easy to forget that everyone has these tough moments and to wallow in them like I did yesterday, instead of reaching out for a hand. I should have called a friend right away... A Mummy Fairy, in a manner of speaking.

This morning, Little One woke up and was no worse for wear - she didn't even mention it, actually. And this is a child who is still showing off a "cut" she got three months ago. So that's OK, then.

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

I thought I would lovingly, patiently explain, using all the right wordsI thought she would gaze and soak up my wisdomI thought she would nod and we'd kiss and my will would be done....ButShe's not sleepy - she needs to call goodnight to all the birdsShe doesn't want me to sing to her - she is busyShe pushes me away and slams the doorWhat will it be like when she is 15?

Bedtime has always been a struggle for us. I go from being too understanding - just one more story, just one more cuddle ... to a little bit firmer - it is TIME for BED now, honey... to furious - and tonight that means that I've just cleared everything out of her room except her bed. She was using the chairs as launch pads to jump onto the bed and I was worried if I left the side tables, she'd start to use them. And then she started chewing on the lamp and the monitor. So I took those, too.But - and I'm proud of this - I didn't yell. I just reiterated my position and took action.

Honestly, governments could learn from me.

But it didn't work.

And now she is sobbing and I am still tired and still have a messy house and still haven't sat down in hours and we are both worn out and nobody is happy and I don't know what to do to fix it.

It's just one of those evenings that makes you think - I took all those prenatal vitamins, all that fish oil, all those yoga classes and they haven't made a blind bit of difference. Someone call SuperNanny.

And another thing? She makes this noise when she pushes me away ... "na-ANG!" (like the Smurfs in the episode when they are all biting each others' tails and turning purple with some Smurf disease) and it makes me angry and sad all at once. Because if only I was better at this gig, it wouldn't be SO ... I know - I know they are all like this - it is a stage, it's normal. I know I'm a decent mum - we had two kinds of vegetables for dinner and ATE them. I know it is more important to be a parent than a friend. I know all this, but still...

It reminds me of something my MIL said once. I asked why she'd not sent my husband to preschool and she said that she didn't think that anyone could take care of him as well as she could. I didn't know what to say to that. Most of the time, I think that anyone could do it better than I can. But my MIL has 40 years of hindsight - he turned out great. I'm sure the sobbing, shrieking toddler in the next room will, too.

Two doesn't last forever, right? Lie to me and tell me three is easier. I promise I'll believe you.

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

Just got home from yoga class. For the second week running I was the only one there. Last week, it was kind of odd - all that observation. Plus, I'd only eaten a snickers bar since lunch, so my blood sugar was low and I felt like I was six years old and wiggly... Today, I remembered to eat some real food and drink water and it was better. I didn't get away with any easy poses or cheats, though... And my yoga mat did smell of bubble gum. Must go - there is a documentary on about Dolly Parton and I need some beauty tips.

N. uses we're instead of our and it is one of those things I just don't want her to lose. It is so sweet and said with such conviction. N. also can't pronounce the "l" sound... which is a problem with her name. But again, it is so sweet and such a part of her that I can't bear to correct her. We would lose such classic lines as "But I don't yike scayyops!"